


Sights Unseen: Message In A Bottle

by aadarshinah



Series: Sights Unseen [16]
Category: Stargate - All Series, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode: s02e07 Message in a Bottle, F/M, Injury, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 04:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1885569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aadarshinah/pseuds/aadarshinah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing Moment's from SG1's "Message In A Bottle"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sights Unseen: Message In A Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> A series of canon-compliant missing moment's from Stargate: SG-1's first three seasons, with an eventual end towards Sam/Jack. Part of the Locality universe - but, as always, knowledge of that is not necessary for knowledge of this.

**8 August, 1998 – Colorado Springs, Earth, Milky Way**

 

“I’m sorry for killing you, Sir.”

“Oh, please,” the Colonel says with an awful sort of forced cheer. “I was hardly dead for more than two seconds, Carter. That hardly even counts.”

Sam clutches the oversized wheel of Jack’s old Chevy tightly. _I nearly lost you_ , she doesn’t say. She settles for, “Your heart stopped. I think that counts.”

“Ah, well, I figure, if Daniel wants to be Most Resurrected again this year, somebody should make him work for it.”

Knuckles now white on the wheel, “With all due respect, Sir, I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Objection noted,” he yawns, turning back towards the passenger window. “This isn’t my exit, Carter.”

“I know, but quarantine drained Janet’s supplies. I promised her I’d make sure you got your prescription filled before I took you home.” Janet hadn’t wanted to let him leave the infirmary at all, but since the device had healed the wound it had put in Colonel O’Neill’s shoulder, she’d had no medical reason to keep him. She’d just prescribed him a strong antibiotic and an even stronger painkiller, grumbling all the while about breaches of conduct and the stupidity of those who checked themselves out against medical advice.

He leans his head against the window, sweat causing his hair to cling to his face. “If I’d’ve known you’d be so bossy about it, I wouldn’t have let you drive my truck.”

“I thought you ordered me to drive you home, Sir.”

“It wasn’t an order, Carter,” he says softly.

“I know it wasn’t,” she says more softly still, pulling into the parking lot of the pharmacy nearest to the Colonel’s house. He’d made a joke about it, even, saying he needed both hands to drive the rusted death trap he loves so much, and could hardly manage it now. Since Daniel can’t drive stick and Teal’c can’t drive, period, the task had fallen to her, since God forbid he leaves his truck in the public lot overnight – although admittedly, with the rain they’re expecting, it might fall to pieces if he did. 

Sam swallows and continues more evenly, “Janet’s already called it in, so it should be ready by now, but you’ll have to come inside to get it. I can’t pick it up for you.”

“I can’t wait for the day someone finally puts a drive-thru in one of these things,” he says as she helps him inside. “It’ll be revolutionary.”

“If you say so, Sir.”

“Just you wait until you’re on _your_ second knee surgery, then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

The prescriptions aren’t quite ready yet, so they have a seat in the waiting area, Sam flipping through a magazine filled with people she doesn’t know and has less desire to learn about.

The Colonel’s half-asleep by the time the pills are ready, so she goes up to the counter herself, just to ask if she can bring the paperwork to him rather than make him come up to the desk himself, but the pharmacist just laughs at her. “It’s okay, honey,” the young woman tells her – she has to be about Sam’s age, but her pigtails make her look far younger. “You can go ahead and sign for him.”

Sam, looking back at the Colonel, reluctantly agrees, taking care to make her signature as illegible as possible.

The pharmacist beams at her. “Have a good day, Mrs O’Neill,” she says as she hands over the small paper bag containing the prescriptions.

Sam gives her a tight smile and hurries back to the Colonel, eager to get out of this place, with its obviously delusional staff.

“What she say?” he asks as she helps him back to the truck, now more than two-thirds asleep but still managing to catch on to her irritation.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“Ouch, that bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.” _Mrs O’Neill indeed_.


End file.
